


We don't talk about before

by everythingremainsconnected



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Family Drama, Found Family, Gen, Pre-Canon, Priest Brothers AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 07:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14303889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingremainsconnected/pseuds/everythingremainsconnected
Summary: Priest always did like to hurt people, and his own brother is certainly no exception. Problem is, Martin's got new brothers, and he don't take too kindly to them getting hurt.





	We don't talk about before

Betrayal wasn’t anything new. Pain was an old friend by now, a cold and unwanted companion, but there nonetheless. Martin had thought there wasn’t enough soul left to hurt, and that he’d never live long enough to be surprised again… and just like that, another sucker punch to the gut had knocked that confidence clean out of him.

That drawl, that smirk, those damn _eyes_. It was home but home gone wrong, so goddamn wrong the Lord would have to make new worlds to hold it all. Martin snarled deep in his throat and stared through the glass wall. 

Memories snapped at Martin’s heels. There used to be a little boy who’d do anything for his brother, but now there was a man who enjoyed pulling wings off flies and breaking kids’ fingers. A flash of pain from Vogel had Martin’s blood pressure all the way up, yet again. Vogel was nursing a fistful of agony right behind him and Martin was ready to rip the world apart, starting with Oz’s face. He snarled again. 

“Oh come now, Martin, is that any kind of way to say hello? Whatever happened to your manners? Mama would be _so_ disappointed.” 

“You come on in here and I’ll give you manners left and right,” Martin snapped. He paced, every inch the caged animal Blackwing had made him. 

Priest smiled and it was colder than the last winter Martin could remember. “You remember dear old Dad after all. I wasn’t too sure what kinda memory monsters like you would have-” 

“I remember you used to be afraid of the dark. What say we turn out these lights and see what else ain’t changed?” 

A low, hollow chuckle made Priest’s shoulders shake. “I don’t think so, little brother. We’re all grown up now and you could not imagine some of the things I’ve seen.” 

“That’s a hell of a job you got yourself there, Ozzie. Breakin’ little boy’s fingers? Shootin’ people what ain’t done no harm to you?” 

“I have a… _talent_ for gettin’ the most outta people around here.” The grin that slid across Priest’s face was a slimy monstrosity. 

Martin growled. He’d grown up with a brother but so much had gone wrong and he thought he had said goodbye to that part of his life… but he had to know, he couldn’t leave the scab just sitting there so he picked at it, knowing nothing good would be underneath. “How’d you get away, Ozzie? When Mama called ‘em on us, how’d you get away?” 

Priest stood close to the glass, his reptilian grin firmly in place. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

“I’ll cut the answer from your skin, Ozzie. Piece by piece.” 

“I don’t think so. You’re stuck in there, I’m all the way out here. That’s the way it goes around Blackwing.” 

Martin roared and punched at the glass. Priest didn’t flinch. Instead his gaze slid toward Vogel, curled up in a world of hurt, and the pleased look in his eyes was sickening. 

In a place deeper than words or thoughts, unencumbered by humanity and it’s earthly concerns, all the way at the core of who Martin was as a living creature.... nestled at the darkest depths was love. A slow heavy beast that stirred little had roused itself for this boy, this precious bird with broken wings, and once woken the love would not sleep again. It was that love buried deep that anchored him to the world, to life and his brothers. It didn’t keep him all that close to humanity but it was a reminder of what he’d been once, what had been his life once. Remembering what had been, as much as it hurt some days, like an old bullet rotting in his chest, it kept him from killing outright. It helped him see _people_ where he also saw _food_. It helped him stay in control and keep his family safe. 

At least, insofar as safe was possible inside Blackwing. 

Vogel keened behind him, high and pained and trying not to show it. He was all of eleven with the hardened anger of someone much, much older. That anger wouldn’t let weakness be shown, not here in the glass cage with nowhere to hide. He’d learned, depressingly fast, that weakness was picked at, preyed on, pulled apart with his soul attached, by the people in white. _Don’t trust the people in white._

Martin snarled. There was space for two other people to echo him, for the three of them to come together and take on the world, and the quiet hurt. Gripps and Cross had been taken away on and off once Vogel was brought in and he missed his brothers. Martin was convinced the separation was just another torture device and, like Vogel, he wasn’t about to let on how much he hurt. Their absence was just another weapon and he snarled again, his teeth snapping. 

“Take a bath in boogers you bonzos!” Vogel shouted. 

The outburst had Martin turning to stare, and grin. Vogel was only eleven but the kid had guts and Martin’s chest swelled with pride. 

“You are a _charming_ individual, Jacob,” Priest said. “You kiss your mama with that mouth?” 

“You took her away!” Vogel screamed. Tears slid down his grubby face as he shouted, “you took my Mom! Where’s my Mom?” 

Martin stalked over to him, pulling the boy close and wrapping long arms around him. He’d been brave enough for a lifetime already. “I got you, kid. I got you.” 

“Where’s my Mom?” Vogel cried. He sagged into Martin’s hold, his shoulders shaking with tears. 

“We’ll get him for this, Vogel. Don’t you worry.” Martin glared at the stranger through the glass. “We’ll make him pay.” 

Priest smiled his lazy gator smile. “We’ll see about that, little brother.” With a last sarcastic chuckle, Priest turned on his heel and left, leaving Martin and Vogel to stare at the empty observation room. 

“Boss?” 

“Yeah, kid?” 

“Why’d he call you brother?” Vogel sniffed. “You said that Gripps and Cross are your brothers.” 

“You know how we don’t talk about before?” 

“Yeah?” 

Martin clenched his jaw. “He was from before. I had a mom and a dad and,” he swallowed hard, “I had a brother. His name was Ozzie. We used to play cops and robbers. But he ain’t my brother no more.” 

“Why not?” 

With a sigh, Martin picked Vogel up and they sat together on the floor. He tried to find words for a kid thrown into the most messed up shit that Martin had ever known.... and couldn’t. He sighed again. 

“Is it one of the bad stories, boss?” 

“Yeah, kid. One of the bad ones.” The stories gave Martin an idea and he leaned back against the wall. “Once upon a time, there was a little boy who had a big brother. The big brother looked out for the little boy, and taught him how to ride a bike, and helped him with his homework.” 

“Are you the little boy, boss?” 

Martin nodded. “One day, the little boy found out he was different. The big brother was different too, but he was better at hiding it, and he told the little brother that they’d hide together. One day,” Martin closed his eyes as he remembered. “One day, when the little boy wasn’t all that little anymore, he and his big brother went fishin’. Some scary people found them and tried to take them away.” 

Vogel curled up tighter. “Are they the same scary people that,” he sniffled, “that took me?” 

“Yeah, kid. The same. They got the little boy but his big brother got away.” 

“How’d he get away?” 

“I dunno, Vogel. The little boy got taken away and he was alone and hungry for a long time. One day, the big brother found his little brother in the scary place, and then,” Martin snapped his teeth, frustrated. “And then the little brother found out that his big brother had turned into the bad guy.” 

“The bad guy?” 

“The baddest guy around. The big brother liked to hurt people now.” 

“But boss,” Vogel tried, “don’t we hurt people, too? Does that mean we’re the bad guy?” 

“No way, baby bird. No way, no how. We don’t like what our powers do, never have, never will. Sometimes it hurts folks but we do not like it. And we don’t do it to make ‘em hurt for the fun of it.” 

“Oh.” 

“That counts,” Martin said firmly. “We don’t do it to make ‘em hurt, not unless they hurt us first.” 

“Are you talkin’ about the scary people?” 

“You betcha. Those scary people are gonna get what’s comin’ to ‘em for what they done to us.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise.” 

“Boss?” 

“Yeah?” 

“How are we gonna get out?” 

Martin paused. “We’ll figure it out, don’t you worry. I’ll get you outta here.” As Vogel’s tears and sniffing stopped, and he stilled in Martin’s arms, Martin was thinking lightning fast. Book smarts hadn’t ever been a strength but world smarts came at him quick. 

Vogel had been in Blackwing for about two months, give or take. In that whole time, the four of them had barely been together. They were split apart in rotating arrangements of twos, sometimes three and one, but Vogel was never without one of them. Not since the first awful separation. Martin, Cross and Gripps had made a thousand kinds of trouble every minute that Vogel wasn’t with them and for three energy vampires who didn’t need sleep, that was a lot of chaotic minutes for the humans who caged them. The three of them had Vogel’s pain in their heads, tearing them apart; making life hell for Blackwing was real easy with that kind of motivation. 

Why didn’t Blackwing keep them together? Straight up torture was likely but years of pseudoscience and government bullshit had left their mark; Martin knew they didn’t do anything for just one reason. Keeping him away from the others, _and_ sending Ozzie in to rub salt in the wound? Martin’s lip curled into a snarl but he kept the sound from escaping. Vogel needed rest while his fingers healed. 

Something bigger was at play. It always was, but dangling Ozzie in front of him like that was… a mistake. Martin had been suspicious for a while about the effort expended in keeping the four of them apart, and trying to throw that monster into the mix was clumsy. The one other time Martin had seen Ozzie since being taken, had been when they needed Martin to break. Oz had told the doctors that he knew how to hurt his little brother, they’d believed him, and it nearly worked. 

Memories rose and Martin let them, hoping to find something new in amongst the familiar pain. 

_The worst months of Martin’s life had a single blip of something worth living for: Gripps, warm and smart and capable of so much love, was the only reason Martin could open his eyes most days. That particular day, they’d taken Gripps away. No explanation, no words, just stormed their room and dragged him out while Martin howled and fought for his life. When Gripps was gone and Martin couldn’t sense him at all anymore, he’d collapsed and cried until he couldn’t breathe._

_And then, Ozzie was there. The emotional whiplash had Martin stunned. He and Ozzie had been ambushed but Ozzie got away and how was he here? How? Martin looked into his brother’s eyes, hope burning a hole in him, and launched himself into Ozzie’s arms._

_Ozzie didn’t move. Martin stood back and listened to the fear uncurling in his head._

_“Hello little brother,” Ozzie smiled._

_Martin recoiled. There was no warmth in his brother’s eyes, and the smile? Something was wrong. Really wrong. Listening to his instincts only made the fear grow; every molecule of his peculiar being was screaming at Martin to get away._

_“Don’t tell me they made you forget your family?” Ozzie asked._

_“Family?” Martin tasted ash. “Where the hell have you been, Ozzie? What happened?”_

_“I played it smart, Martin. I know Mama didn’t raise no fool, so why don’t you make it easier for yourself? Get smart.”_

_“Smart?”_

_“Work smarter, not harder. If you give a little you might be surprised at how much you’ll get in return.”_

“Work with them? _” Martin snarled at the white coat-ed onlookers. “They’re the enemy, Oz. Can’t you feel it?”_

_Ozzie shrugged. “I can feel the wind blowin’ through my bones and it points me the way I need to go.”_

_“So that’s it? That wind points you away from what’s right?”_

_“Oh come on, Martin!” Ozzie laughed. “Right ain’t got anythin’ to do with us, not anymore. Don’t fight who you are.”_

_Martin reeled. “You don’t get it,” he realised. “Who I am ain’t - ain’t all that.”_

_“You’re a weapon. The sooner you get yourself pointed in the right direction, the better off you’ll be. All of you.”_

_“All of us?”_

_Ozzie sucked his teeth, a move that Martin knew meant he’d slipped up. “Get yourself right, Martin. Get yourself right.”_

_“Get outta my face before I break you!” Martin snapped. “You went wrong, Oz. Somethin’s gone wrong in you. This ain’t who you are-”_

_“Get with the program! This is what we’re meant to be.”_

_“You don’t know me!” Martin roared. “I ain’t no weapon and I ain’t no coonhound to hunt your enemies, whoever the hell they are. That ain’t how it works.”_

_“So how does it work, Martin? How does it work?”_

_Martin opened his mouth to shout but a push from the universe clamped his jaw shut tight. He glared, blood boiling, his skin prickling under the eyes of the white coats. Explanations crashed through his head but he couldn’t speak. He knew he definitely shouldn’t say a damn word; information was a weapon and giving the hot poker to your enemy was a bonzo bad idea. His brother knew just how to push those buttons - that had to be why he was here after so long._

_“You ain’t my brother,” Martin said eventually. “You ain’t no family to me no more.”_

_Ozzie shrugged. “You change your mind, just ask for me. They’ll find me.” He walked out, a smile on his face, grinning when the door closed and Martin launched himself at it._

That they’d sent Oz in again told Martin more than the White Coats realised. 

They thought they were close to something. Judging by the almost constant separation, that had to be part of it. As soon as Vogel could move without excruciating pain, they’d start the campaign to get reunited. 

As sleep came for Martin, he smiled. His contentment passed through the air to Vogel and would keep the boy’s nightmares at bay. Screwing up the White Coats’ plans was always a fun day, and getting his family - his _real_ family - back together was one hell of an added bonus.

**Author's Note:**

> Did someone say sibling angst? You're welcome ;) [I'm on tumblr](https://everythingremainsconnected.tumblr.com/) if you wanna say hi<3


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